On the
87th Southside Podcast, I was talking about badly written radio adverts. I probably have a whole host of cringe worthy commercials in the archives, although sadly most of them were probably created by me.

In 2008 – if you can remember that far back – I applied for a full-time creative writing position. It was at a major commercials production company in London. I new it was a long shot but I applied anyway. I mean in certain cases a long shot is just what you need, especially if you’re using a long range fire arm such as the .308 Winchester calibre or perhaps a Serbu .50BFG – at least that’s what fifteen minutes of pointless time-wasting internet research revealed. Anyway I didn’t get the job (hence the fact that I have time to fribble away on the internet researching long-range fire-arms simply to support a feeble joke). So that perhaps gives the following rant a little bit of perspective. Following this rejection, I started feverishly going through the commercial radio stations hunting for adverts, trying to find the Holy Grale of advertising, the secret formula to success. When I found a station playing some adverts I would turn the volume up and pace up and down the room, often muttering under my breath about the shoddiness of the writing, the acting or production work. ON occasion – if there was a particularly bad advert and if I was in a particularly bad mood – I would start shouting at the radio, as if addressing the creators of the advert. One day, I heard an advert that made my blood boil. With hindsight, the advert isn’t as bad as I make it out to be on the recording, but I remember being in a very bad mood that day and so (rather than keeping my geeky thoughts to myself) I began to rant about it on a podcast; I say “geeky” because this clip sees me shouting at the creators of a forty second advert, claiming that there are plot holes and that the narrative doesn’t follow. I except that this clip may not be the funniest and most clever thing I’ve ever put up on here but I’m sure some of you will enjoy it simply to hear someone getting so worked up over a forty second advert. If you listen to this clip and then imagine lots of maniacal stuttering, swearing and agitated floor pacing then you’ve got a worryingly accurate depiction of a general day-in-the-life of David Eagle.

Anyway you can download this rant
here.
Well I’ll leave you to enjoy the clip, safe in the knowledge that I’ve successfully manage to post another blog entry that brings further attention to my insanity and dysfunctional way of living. I’m off now to bathe myself in a bath of baked beans, before retiring for the evening to my kennel at the bottom of the garden.

Byeeeee!

P.S. I feel very sorry for ‘Jamies Tiles’, who are the company that this advert is advertising. But don’t worry, I’ll give you some quality advertising for free.
Jamies Tiles! Jamies Tiles! look Here it’s Jamies Tiles!!! There you go. ‘Jamies Tiles’. They’ll probably sell out within a few minutes now. And if you go along to a ‘Jamies Tiles’ store and buy some tiles, then why not tell them that David eagle sent you, and receive a free … blank, confused, disinterested look by an ambivalent shop assistant.

Byeeee!

I’ve been sitting at the computer for ages, wondering how to start this post. The problem is that I’ve been away and haven’t written for so long that I feel I should really consider my re-entrance on to the blogging scene. Should it be apologetic? Should I try and manufacture some excuses for why I’ve been away for so long? But I assumed that you wouldn’t be taken in by the line “the dog ate my blog post” and so thought better of it. Should it be dramatic? Factual? Fictional? After a serious amount of head scratching, I still hadn’t decided on how to open this post. Then I thought it might be a good idea to stop scratching my head and actually start thinking about how to start this post. Hahahahahah!

I was slightly concerned today when logging on to my blog that the entire blogosphere may have collapsed due to my neglect. The powers that control these things may have just decided that if David Eagle wasn’t going to be gracing the blogosphere with his presence anymore then the blogosphere might as well not exist. However I suppose that this works under the assumption that there is some form of sentient force controlling things whereas current popular opinion is that it’s actually all to do with sciency type stuff. Of course the most prevalent concept is that the blogosphere, along with the worldwide web and the many other worlds in the computerverse including terry Pratchett’s ‘Disc World’ and of course ‘PC World’ all came in to happening due to the big boot. Recently, a group of computer geeks tried to recreate the effects of the big boot by standing at different sides of a room and hurling computers into each other repeatedly and at great speed. Sadly, all that happened was a major expenses bill, a load of broken computers on the floor and a few computer geeks with fractured limbs and sore muscles.

In the end I didn’t come up with anything special as a way of starting and so I just decided to write and see what happened. And that is what happened. I was about to post a blog last week about the 87th
‘Southside Podcast’ which is now available to
download but unfortunately, for the first time, I was asked to remove it because of some inflammatory material I had been guilty of including. I was also called into a meeting to discuss what I had done and to have my bottom smacked. I attended this meeting and indeed we discussed what I had done although I was disappointed to discover that the bottom smacking was not meant in a literal sense and to be honest was probably only used as a device to get me to attend the meeting. Maybe next time. I therefore didn’t post last week because I didn’t want to write anything I would later regret and so thought it wise to wait until the situation had been tempered and then write something this week that I’ll later regret. I have been asked not to elaborate on what inflammatory things I said and so yet again (like with so many things in this blog) I’m not able to give any details. I will however mention one of the things that someone complained about which may give the whole thing some perspective. I haven’t been given permission to do this and so yet again I maybe crossing the line. OK, to be honest, I’m just doing this for the bottom smack.

There was a complaint about the following quote I made on the podcast. I will quote it exactly word-for-word. If you have a heart condition or any medical problems then you may wish to consult some kind of expert before reading. And now, the quote:

“Anyway, you might be able to tell – listeners – especially the ladies and the homosexuals among you, that my voice is sounding a little more sexy than usual.”

That was it. The complaint was that a listener found it offensive because I mentioned the word “homosexual” and the listener’s son was gay. It is never my intention to offend and if I have done so then of course I apologise but in all seriousness I am confused as to what the offence was. Is it offensive simply to mention the word “homosexuals”/ And if so, why? If anything, I would have thought the listener would have been more entitled to have complained if I had failed to mention homosexuals as they could have argued I had deliberately alienated a section of society. In this case, I could argue I was being all-inclusive, acknowledging (without any undue elaboration) that the world isn’t one-dimensional and that there was a likelihood that ladies and homosexuals may have found my voice a little more sexy today. In reality, the brutal truth is that neither groups are attracted to me. So using the same argument, the same listener (who was a lady) could have complained that she felt insulted by my use of the word “ladies”, or a male listener could have complained for me mentioning the word “ladies” because his wife happened to be a lady. If anyone sees this differently feel free to leave a comment and I’ll try to reply to you without mentioning gender, race, class or species. At least she didn’t point out my incorrect comparative use, as I should have said “Sexier” as opposed to “more sexy”. If she’d mentioned that then I might never have broadcasted again. Incidentally, if you’re wondering why my voice might have been sounding sexier than usual, it was because my microphone has been fixed. Great news for the voice over world. I know you’ve all been holding back work simply because you knew my mic was broken but now the floodgates can be opened once more. Hurrah!

Before I move on from this subject, I must mention that I accepted the initial complaint that was made about the podcast and understood how a number of people would have found it offensive. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was being self-righteous or strong-headed about this. Unfortunately I can’t tell you what it was I actually said, and although you might be getting excited about finding out by
downloading the podcast, I’m afraid the offending item has been removed. You’ll also be pleased to hear that this week’s podcast does not contain the word “homosexuals” so it’s safe to listen if you’re a homophobe.

So you’re probably wondering what the point in listening might be. Well, I can assure you that this week’s podcast is excellent in spite of the omissions. Here is the description which you’ll be pleased to hear was written by a genderless, classless, colourless, shapeless thing:

“This week, the theme is literature. We speak with three authors; historian Max Arthur about the British Dambuster operation of World War II. We discuss John
Boyne’s World War II novel ‘the Boy in the Striped Pyjamas’ with the author himself along with his new book ‘the House of Special Purpose’. Author, athlete
and model Amy Bohan talks about her autobiographical book ‘Take a Girl like Me’. As well as discussions with these three authors, there’s audio extracts
from the respective books.”

One last time. The link to download is
this.

P.S. I’ve got loads to update you on. Last week I was gigging all over the place with
‘The Young’uns’ and I’ve got loads of stories. I’ll decide what to include on shows and what to include on the blog and whether or not I can get away with uploading the various incriminating videos I have.

Byeeeeee!

I saw Britain’s Got talent for the first time last weekend. I’m not really sure how I’d managed to get through life before that point but somehow I did. It wasn’t by my own choosing that I watched it I hasten to add. It was one of those moments where I was with a group of people and rather than enduring meaningless conversation with each other it was decided that we should watch the Crème de la crème of British talent with hilarious witticisms from the world’s greatest double act ant and dec amidst ingenious put downs from Simon Cowell that would make even Anne Robinson wince.

What unnerved me the most though was the sheer obstinence and indignation of some of the people who were showcased. If you’ve never seen it before – stay strong – they show a clip of the person talking about themselves before they go on to perform in front of the live audiences and judging panel. There were a lot of overly-confident people. I love confident people. I have a lot of respect for people who can defy the critics and obstacles and go on to achieve great things in spite of anything. I am inspired by the stories of successful people who came from nothing and fought their way to the top. As someone who is attempting to harbour such confidence so that I can succeed in achieving what I want to achieve, I find other people’s stories of triumph in the face of adversity encouraging. I believe I have the ability, and so the only thing that is stopping me from achieving world domination is confidence. That’s what I used to believe, until I saw Britain’s Got Talent. Then I saw the other side of the coin (a coin that is obviously rapidly decreasing in terms of economic worth.).

There was one woman in particular who unnerved me. In her pre-performance interview she explained that she was a great and undiscovered singer. She went on to say that she was 100% certain that she could win the whole competition. She hated people who were signed on the basis of their appearance as opposed to their musical ability. “If people can’t sing then they shouldn’t be making music”. So she must be really good right? She has the confidence, the ambition. She talks the talk so surely she must sing the sing? She strides on to the stage and starts telling Simon Cowell how wonderful she is. She seems to have the audience on her side. So, all she needs to do now is sing and they’ll probably terminate the whole competition and make her ambassador for music, yes? … No! She opens her mouth (a good technique to employ if you’re a singer. You can have that nugget of information for free as I’m feeling generous) and then she starts to sing, although I use that word loosely. Immediately the crowd start chanting “off, off, off” and one of the judges buzzes. She shouts at the judge who buzzes and yells at the sound people to start the song again. Normally what happens is that the person continues when a judge buzzes until all three judges buzz and then they must stop. She starts to sing again from the beginning of the song and immediately another judge buzzes. Again, she demands that the song be restarted. The crowd renew their chants of “off, off, off!” and the woman (still seemingly as confident as ever) yells at the crowd to shut up. The song is again restarted and this time she gets through a whole verse of the song and half way through the chorus (sounding dreadful) before the third judge buzzes. She refused to accept the three judges’ criticisms of her singing. She accused the judges of not giving her a chance and then proceeded to blame it on the backing track and the type of microphone. She was still just as adamant of her ability in spite of the judges and the audience’s reaction and unanimous verdict. Suddenly, I started to re-evaluate my whole idea of obtaining success. I had always used other people’s self-confidence as a catalyst to fuel my own and to convince myself that I can prove to others that I am as good as I believe myself to be. But then Britain’s Got Talent changed all that. If the woman had managed to delude herself of her ability (in spite of mass-criticism) then so could I. Maybe I am simply delusional after all. OK, I get a lot of positive feedback about what I do but still, maybe their deluded. Then, before my eye (as only my left eye deems it appropriate to function) more and more people start to appear on the program, possessing oodles of confidence but without the talent to support it. If these people can go through life thinking they have a certain amazing ability and feel they have the confidence to prove it to the world then what does that say about me? I’m nowhere nearly as certain of myself as these people are, and they certainly beat me hands down in the confidence round. And it’s not like these people are a small minority of the population. X Factor is full of such people.

So Britain’s Got Talent was a rather demoralising experience for me. Britain’s Got Talent causes me to re-evaluate my whole life philosophy. If only I could be as clever and witty as Ant and Dec.

Before I go, I’ve got to share this with you. It was something really funny that Simon Cowell said on last week’s Britain’s Got Talent. There was a man who sang Lionel Richie’s ‘Hello’ rather badly and Simon buzzed and then quick as a flash said to the man. “Listen. Tell me, what’s the opposite of hello?” The answer is obviously goodbye and Simon was being really clever because he was literally telling the man goodbye but by taking the song ‘Hello’ and reversing the meaning throwing the song back in the man’s face. Hah! I wish I was as funny as Simon Cowell. In fact, if I had one wish in the world, I’d be a fusion between Ant, Dec and Simon Cowell. Wow! But alas, I’m only me.

P.S. This is kind of linked to the subject. You can download my parody of X Factor winner Leona Lewis’ ‘Bleeding Love’
here. (you see how I cleverly shoehorned that in?)
It’s also available on my
Youtube channel which is rubbish as it just consists of that song and nothing else. Also, being blind, the video is really rubbish consisting of a few pictures cobbled together and pasted in to ‘Movie Maker’. (I really know how to promote myself don’t I?) Perhaps if there’s an amazing animator or video designer reading, they might like to collaborate. We could wallow in the pit of obscurity together. Anyway, I like this version better as I added a few extra expletive beeps which I think makes it sound funnier. I don’t know what that says about my writing but anyway …

Jiga jiga jiga! Guess who’s back! Well, obviously it’s me but anyway … I was trying to be street and hip-hop. “Jiga jiga jiga! Guess who’s back” is of course from the eminem classic’ Without me’, but you knew that all ready. The
apparent definitions of “jiga” according to the
‘Urban Dictionary’ are interesting although I’m doubtful that Mr. Shady was referring to any of them when he used “jiga” in his song. Perhaps if someone reading this knows him personally then they might like to pass on my contact details so he can get back to me about this.

Anyway, I’m aware that I haven’t posted for awhile. I was planning to post a blog on Monday but obviously I was inconsolable after hearing the news of Peter Andre and Katie Price’s separation and understandably, I was rendered inactive for two days. I think I’m being amazingly brave attempting to get back to normal life so soon but I’m making the effort for my fans. Hopefully, I’ll feel emotionally stable enough to post a lengthier and more substantial blog post tomorrow but I just wanted to let you know that the 86th ’Southside Podcast’ is available to download and also to say “hi”. So: Hi, the 86th ‘Southside Podcast is available to download. (There, I did it.)

You can download it
here.
This is the description:

“This week, as we “pod on” ‘Pink Panther’ style, there’s a location report from the Harrogate Spring Flower Show which boasts the finest in horticultural comedy. We feature an interview with “Rat Man”, a Pest Control Officer who gives us an insight into his multi-faceted job. Two months ago, Claudia Lawrence, a chef from York, went missing. We hear from Martin Dales, a friend and spokesman for the Lawrence family. All that and more on this week’s Southside Podcast.”

P.S. As an addendum to
my long, ranting blog post, I did finally get a phone call back from the production company and the news was positive. It’s only a matter of time though before they read the blog post, take offence and pull the plug on the whole thing. I still can’t say what it is, but trust me, even If I could you honestly wouldn’t be remotely interested. “But that’s never stopped you before?”

Back tomorrow. I’m off to write a couple of fake love letters – one from Katie to Peter, the other from Peter to Katie. Maybe they’ll think it’s genuine and get back together again. That’s all anyone wants. The world is bad enough at the moment with swine flu, the economy and global warming without Peter and Katie breaking up. I don’t know if I can take it anymore. We need to get them to reconcile so they can get back to making quality television programs about themselves. I’ll let you know how the letters go.

P.P.S I’ve just realised that my P.S. was longer than the actual main post. How avant-garde am I?

Hi, I bet you can’t guess what this post is going to be about? Well, don’t worry, I’ll tell you. The 85th ‘Southside Podcast’ is now available to download, and what’s more, to listen to. Here is the official description for it – I say official description because obviously there’s a myriad of bogus, unofficial descriptions doing the rounds. Don’t be taken in by them. We don’t have an interview with Elvis Presley this week – that’s next week. Here’s what we do have:

This week’s podcast is garbage man! That’s a hilarious joke reference to the fact that we’ve got an interview with author Joseph D’Lacey about his highly acclaimed horror novel ‘Garbage Man’. The podcast is in fact far from garbage, for as well as Joseph D’Lacey, we hear from science fiction writer Alan Stevens with some advice about writing radio drama. Anti-wind-farm protester Jane Davis gives us her perspective on wind-farms and reveals some shocking revelations about their potential dangers that are not so well-known to the general public. Plus, presenter David Eagle revisits his quest to become the world’s greatest actor while taking on an all-new challenge. All shall be revealed when you “pod on” to the 85th Southside Podcast. POD ON!

Me again! So if you’re feeling a little bit sorry for me and want to try helping me out of this infernal pit of obscurity by downloading this week’s podcast, then you can do just that by clicking
here

Oy!!! You! I saw that! You just skipped past that link and refused to click it without a care in the world! Well you’ll be sorry. If I end up contracting swine flu then it’s your fault!

It’s Monday morning (well I know it’s not really Monday morning but I’d like you to suspend disbelief for me if you can. With not having a normal, steady 9-5 job to wake up to, self-motivation is essential. I therefore start my Mondays by attempting to rouse my spirits for the week ahead. This usually involves lots of stretching exercises, running, jumping and muttering to myself about how I’ve got to be organised, creative, strong-willed, email loads of people, call them, find work! Find work! Find work! Once I’ve finished this rather vigorous spirit rousing exercise, I usually then feel totally exhausted (what with the running and jumping) and so go back to bed for an hour, defeating the whole point of the routine. An hour later I wake feeling totally unmotivated about the day ahead. “Time for the spirit rousing exercises again” I think.

I love working. I don’t however enjoy looking for work – applying for jobs, sending off my CV etc. I find it easy to write a radio commercial for a company but impossible to sell myself. It gets a bit tedious and mundane. I therefore try to make the general mundaneity of such days into an imaginary dangerous and exciting adventure. Rather than simply turning on my computer to check emails, send emails, and make phone calls, I pretend I am on a vital mission.
“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find yourself more work. If you fail in your mission then the entire universe will be destroyed!”
“Accept it?! Accept it?! Of course I accept it!
I am David Eagle!!!” I defiantly declare before exiting the phone box – er, bathroom.

I rush up the stairs, invigorated by my essential worth and the importance of my role to society. ON the way, I get my foot caught in a belt that has been discarded on the stairs. In my head I pretend it’s a dangerous trap which has been set by the wanton universe destroyers in order to thwart my efforts. I struggle free from the complex nexus of wires and metal bars and cast it aside. I then rush into my room (sorry, the Eagle-Mobile) to type my important and immensely complicated technical data into the super computer. Damn! There seems to be a problem with the computer.

“Some files and programs on your computer failed to initiate properly. This is probably due to a virus or a form of malwear on your hard drive. We recommend that you update your virus software and scan for errors.”
“Damn! I’ve got a virus!” I try pressing keys on the computer and nothing happens. Well, I really do have a problem now. Then I remember my imaginary mission and for a fleeting moment, a small part of my mind tries to compose a pretend scenario.
“OK, so the evil universe destroyers are trying to corrupt my super computer …”. Then a loud beep from the computer brings me back to reality with a jolt.
“No!” I shout at myself “you’re deluding yourself. It’s not a super computer; it’s a cheap, old, rusty laptop. You’re not on a mission to save the universe; you’re trying to get work. You’re not a great, noble, important adventurer, you’re an idiot! An idiot!! Do you hear me?”
“Of course I hear you! You’re me speaking to myself from my mind, how can I not hear you. Do you have to shout so loud? I’m trying to fix the computer”.

After a few hours I’ve managed to fix the computer. By this point I’ve lost all my adrenalin from the spirit rousing routine of the morning and my pretend mission. All my energy has been sapped. I apologise to myself for shouting at me and go to bed.

Everything seems to go so slow. I spend a whole day making calls, sending emails, and starting/finishing projects. I then retire for the evening thinking that everything is going to be great. I’ve set the ground work, people apparently like what I’m doing, people sound positive, progress is being made. I wake up the next morning, excited about all the responses I’m going to have in my inbox, all the phone calls I’ll be receiving all through the day. I check my emails and there’s nothing. I wait for the phone to ring but it doesn’t. I check to make sure the phone is connected properly. It is. “Maybe there’s a problem with the phone, the ringer might be broke”. So I ring the landline with the mobile and it rings. I put the phone down and think, “Damn! I’ve probably just missed a call from someone really important now by doing that”.
I refresh my inbox. Still nothing. Maybe they’ve ended up going to my spam folder. I scroll relentlessly down my spam folder, a truly demoralising experience as it becomes apparent that the emails haven’t gone to my spam folder and as I read down a list of emails telling me that my penis is too small to satisfy my woman. Now I’m even more deflated. Not only have I got a small penis (apparently) but I’m also reminded that I haven’t got a woman to satisfy regardless of penis size. What’s the average size of a human penis? My mind starts to drift. “Maybe I should google it.” I’m brought back to reality with a jolt by a ringing phone. I jump to my feet, clear my throat and answer the phone by saying “hello”, trying to make my voice sound really important and cool as if I’m the kind of highflying success who gets phone calls all the while. “Hello” I say with one hand on the phone and the other hand typing random letters into the computer at great speed to give the impression that I’m important and working in a busy office environment, or even better, that the sound of the typing is from my personal secretary. “Hello” I say again as my first hello failed to elicit a response.
“Hello” comes the voice at the other end of the line “this is a free call from debt direct. This call will cost you nothing. Are you in debt?” comes the recorded message. I slam the phone down in frustration. I’m feeling even worse now. Not only did that phone call get my hopes up only to see them crashing back down to reality again but it also reminded me that I still haven’t paid off my student loan which is increasing due to interest.
Plus, I’m also annoyed because the recorded message was obviously recorded by a Voice Over artist. “Damn! Why does he get to do that job? Why can’t it be me? I could quite happily sell my voice to a company that’s going to use it to ring people up and annoy them! I’ve got no morals, I could do that”.
And what do they mean by “this is a free phone call. this call will cost you nothing”? They rang me! How many times do you pay for a call that someone makes to you? “Damn! I’ve probably missed an important call now thanks to that stuck up Voice Over reminding me about my lack of work and my financial debt to the government!” I turn back to my emails in frustration. Maybe during that phone call an email has come in from an employer. I then realise in horror that due to my pretend, important typing frenzy when taking the phone call, I’ve managed to accidentally send my load of gibberish typing as a reply to the penis people. They’ll probably think I’m interested and send me even more emails now. IN fact my email provider will probably assume that because I’ve replied, in future I want any penis related emails to go straight to my inbox. What a cock I am! All be it a very small one. Needless to say the day passes without a single call or email from these important people.

Then there is the dilemma of when to take my attempts to the next level. How long should I leave it before emailing or calling again? The reason I’m writing this blog post is because I’m getting to the end of my tether with this situation. I was asked to do some production work for a production company. I did the work and sent it off. Surprisingly, I got an email back the next day which simply said, “Hi Dave, what’s your phone number?” I duly responded with my contact information. This email was sent last Friday, 24th April. It’s now the 30th of April and I hadn’t received any contact from the company, as far as I was aware and so I decided that I would give them a call. I convinced myself that they had probably called and for some reason couldn’t get through. (After all, I’m a really busy person aren’t I?) I assumed by their instant response to my email with the production work attached that they were asking for my phone number to offer more work and arrange certain details with me. As the week went on I became more and more negative about the whole thing. Couldn’t they have at least given me some indication of whether the work I sent was what they wanted? Was it good? Did they like it? Then I began to think that maybe they had asked for my phone number merely to get me off their back and it was the classic case of “don’t call us, we’ll call you”. So I called them today. The conversation went thus:

Them: “Hello.”
Me: “Hello.”
(I didn’t really have to include that bit but I thought it would build the dramatic tension a bit.)
Me: “It’s David Eagle, hi. I don’t know whether you’ve been trying to get in touch with me or not over the last few days but apologies if you have, things have been a bit busy here.”
(There I am doing that pathetic “busy person” act again.)
Them: “yes we tried to call you but we must have missed you.”
Me: aaah! Right OK,” trying to hide the huge relief from my voice, “well …”.
Them: “Listen, we’re in the middle of a meeting right now, we’ll give you a call when we’ve finished right?”
Me: “Yes OK.”
Them: “Right, great, bye.”
Me: “Bye” (although they had all ready hung up before my “bye” could have got through – a shame really because it was a rather good “bye” as far as byes go.

That call was made at 1:30, it’s now 4:00. Are these people deliberately playing with my mind?

Byeeee!

P.S. No reply from Johnson Komo, my spam friend I wrote about in
my last blog post.Even he doesn’t reply to my emails and I’m offering him money!

Today I received the following email in my inbox from a Johnson Komo. I’ve never come across such a name in my life but as the email ended up in my inbox and not the spam folder I thought I would open it. After all, it could be an admiring fan. It wasn’t an admiring fan (but I bet you knew that anyway). The email reads as follows:

“My Dear one,

Permit me to inform you of my desire of going into
business relationship with you. I got your name and
contact from the Ivoirian chamber of commerce. I
prayed over it and selected your name among other
names due to its esteeming nature and the
recommendations given to me as a reputable and trust
worthy person that I can do business with and by the
recommendation, I must not hesitate to confide in you
for this simple and sincere business.

I am Johnson Komo the only Child of late Mr. and
Mrs.Joseph Komo. My father was a very wealthy cocoa
merchant in Abidjan , the economic capital of Ivory
coast, my father was poisoned to death by his business
associates on one of their outings on a business trip
..

My mother died when I was a baby and since then my
father took me so special. Before the death of my
father on october 2008 in a private hospital here in
Abidjan he secretly called me on his bed side and told
me that he has the sum of Ten million,five hundred
thousand United State Dollars.. USD ($10,500,000.00)
left in fixed / suspense account in one of the prime
bank here in Abidjan ,that he used my name as his only
Child for the next of Kin in depositing of the fund.
He
also explained to me that it was because of this
wealth that he was poisoned by his business ssociates.
That I should seek for a foreign partner in a country
of my choice where i will transfer this money and use
it for investment purpose such as real estate
management or hotel management .

Dear, I am honourably seeking your assistance in the
following ways:

(1) To provide a bank account into which this money
would be transferred to .
(2) To serve as a guardian of this fund since I am
only 20years.

(3) To make arrangement for me to come over to your
country to further my education and to secure a
resident permit in your country.

Moreover, Dear, i am willing to offer you 15% of the
total sum as compensation for your effort/ input after
the successful transfer of this fund into your
nominated account overseas.
Furthermore, you indicate your options towards
assisting me as I believe that this transaction would
be concluded within three (3) days you signify
interest to assist me. Anticipating to hear from you
soon.

Thanks and God bless.

Best regards,
Johnson Komo.”

Wow! So things are on the up for me it seems. Sounds good doesn’t it? So obviously I replied. I mean, I know a good deal when I see one. I replied with the following:

“Hello, normally, I wouldn’t give emails of this nature the time of day
but for some reason I felt compelled to read this one. I don’t know if
you’re aware of this but some people send emails kind of like the one
you sent me asking for bank details because they intend to steal money
from people’s accounts. That is why I generally ignore such emails
however when I’d finished reading your email I knew that this was no
scam and that you were fully genuine. In addition, I found it easy to
empathise with your situation as we appear to share a similar story.
Like you, my mother died when I was young and five years ago my father
was poisoned because of his wealth and power. I therefore had no
reason to doubt the plausibility of your situation and felt a desire
to help in anyway I can.

You mention that you got my contact details from the Ivoirian chamber
of commerce. I am flattered that they remember me and recommended me
to you. When I was younger I would sometimes go to parties held by the
commerce. I particularly remember a very eventful and memorable fancy
dress party they hosted. I also remember with great fondness
attending an Ivoirian chamber of commerce orgy. Great days!

Anyway, to get back to the point, after careful consideration I have
decided to give you my bank details so that you can store your
father’s money safely. I will also arrange accommodation for you for
when you move to this country. I also have a number of contacts at
some prestigious universities across the country and so will therefore
secure you a university placement studying a degree of your choice.
All I need from you now is for you to let me know what information you
need in order to access my bank account. I also need to know what university
degree you would like to study.

Finally, I would like to offer my condolences to you. I know how
terrible it is to lose a father through poison. Did the person who
poisoned your father get prosecuted? If not, then I can put you in
touch with a lawyer friend of mine who I am sure would help you fight
for justice.

I hope to hear back from you soon.

Best regards

John.”

So, we’ll see what happens. Lucky me! Looks like I might survive this credit crunch lark after all thanks to my good buddy Johnson Komo.

After sending this email I had a look on the internet to see if anyone had written anything about this Hoax. There were quite a few websites reporting similar emails with almost identical wording to mine. I felt cheated, used, and to think, I thought Johnson was my friend. What about all those things he’d told me? He said he’d got my name from the Ivoirian chamber of commerce. It all sounded so convincing (even though he never actually mentioned my name once and kept calling me “dear” fore some reason). Anyway, I found an excellent website
scamorama.com which deals with the subject of hoax emails in a very amusing way. Basically, they reply to these various emails under a comical pseudonym and string the scammers along for as long as they can. They even had an email very similar to the one from Johnson Komo. You can read how that conversation between scammee and scammer transpired
here. I also enjoyed
this one too.

Perhaps tomorrow will yield some response from Johnson Komo. I will of course let you know. In the meantime (while we wait) you can download a short sample from a radio show where I’m talking about the strange emails I get in my spam folder. As well as the obvious emails about penis extensions there’s also some unusual offers including a chance to purchase a DVD of dogs playing poker. The file is only three minutes long so you might as well
Download it. I mean, what harm can it do you? Exactly! Go on,
Download it!

Well I’ve kind of just thought of a dogs playing poker joke although I’m not really sure it works properly but you’re probably used to that by now so here goes:

Why did the dog keep losing the Poker game?

Answer: Because he kept getting a ruff deal!

What about:

Why did the dog keep beating the human at poker?

Answer: Because the dog had four hands and the human only had two.

Although you probably wouldn’t say that a dog has four hands – you would say four legs. Damn!

This is just a quick blog post to let you know that the 84th
Southside Podcast Has been uploaded and therefore is available to download. I know you’ve probably all ready subscribed to it and so you were aware of this but just in case there is someone out there who has managed to go through life ‘Southside Podcast’ free I thought I better mention it. You can download it
here. this is the description for this week’s offering:

“Welcome to the eco friendly Southside Podcast as we speak about alternative transportation, sustainable energy and renewable sources with Heather Parry from Fodder – the pioneering environmentally friendly eatery. Our New York correspondent Peter Franklin (gabby.com) talks to us from a transatlantic toilet about gun crime, clowns and Luton Town football Club. Sir Patrick Moore gives some advice for novice star gazers. Actress and fashion guru fiona curzon (fionacurzoncollections.co.uk) recounts an ongoing saga about her attempts to join a London based hospital radio station to no avail. Plus David eagle explains why he is viewed as a hero among the taxi driving fraternity and attempts to sell his talents to BBC Radio 4. And there’s more! Pod on to be enlightened.”

Before I end up drifting to sleep at the computer I’ll quickly end with a complimentary taxi driver joke.

“What is a taxi driver’s favourite vegetable?”

answer: “Cabbage”.
Get it? Taxi cab, cab-age! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Byeeeee

I was planning on writing quite a bit today but I’ve got the 84th Southside Podcast to package by Friday afternoon before I head off to a gig in Leeds. I’ll talk more about my gigging shenanigans in more detail at some point in the future (see? The future really is bright!). Anyway, even though I’m not going to write about what I intended to write about for this post, I will still provide the audio clip that pertained to the thing I was going to write about.

My post was going to be about radio presenting nightmares. I work for a radio station that is partly involved in training up wannabe radio presenters. As I do a lot of editing for podcasts I am given all the programs, reports and interviews to sift through in order to locate the best bits for podcast inclusion. Obviously now and again (I get a cruel streak) and include some of the more cringe worthy broadcasting moments made by the new, trainee presenters, just for a cheap and easy laugh. Now and again though I am lucky to come across an example of nightmare radio presenting that is made by the more established talent. On such occasions, , my cruel streak will invariably rear its head and their ineptitudes will be be played (relentlessly) for the world to hear. Obviously, if ever I was to make a mistake then I have the power to edit it out which I duly do. Well I’ve got to have some perks in this job, especially when you consider the wage I’m on.

I’ve provided an example of some classic car crash radio that I featured (with great delight) on a previous Southside Podcast for you to download. A group of reporters went to Earls Court to cover
the France Show which is an event that celebrates French culture. Sadly, it transpires that the French language skills of the three reporters were rather under par, in fact (more or less non-existent) and so communication was more than a little fraught at times. This seemed to completely frazil the brains of the presenters who then struggled to even string sentences together in English. It becomes clearly apparent that the only French phrase the reporters know is “c’est magnifique” which they clearly demonstrate by repeating it over and over again in spite of it having no actual relevance to the subject matter at hand.

You can hear the whole embarrassing episode
here
Merci, au revoir – as you can tell I’m a bit of an expert when it comes to French.